


Rumors on the Street

by kickassfu



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Humor, M/M, brief talks of sex, but none of it here, cuss words aplenty, jaskier gets a lil drunk, jaskier is cockblocked by rumors, jaskier's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassfu/pseuds/kickassfu
Summary: “Geralt do you think I’m pretty? Actually scratch that. Of course I’m pretty. I mean, do you think I’ve grown uglier these last few months?” Jaskier had asked him once, looking at a mirror before they went to bed. Stretching his face, smushing it, looking for something, anything, that’d explain it.“Go to sleep Jaskier.” had been the bastard’s unhelpful answer.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 28
Kudos: 517





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> got this fun prompt on tumblr: Everyone thinks Jaskier is sleeping with the scary White Wolf (he is not), so people are too afraid to proposition him, assuming the witcher is territorial. Jaskier is understandably annoyed. At some point when he's tipsy he complains to Geralt about it, (half-) joking that they might as well make the rumors true
> 
> and i tried my best!! apologize if it's a little messy lol but i hope you enjoy anyway~~

Jaskier is going through a bit of a dry spell lately, and he has no idea why it’s happening. He flirts the same as always, and people seem somewhat receptive, but then-

Then nothing happens.

And as much as Jaskier loves some harmless flirting, he also quite enjoys falling in momentary love and making love. People are beautiful and wondrous beings, and Jaskier’s heart is filled with love, and a need to give it away.

But no one is fucking taking it.

_“Geralt do you think I’m pretty? Actually scratch that. Of course I’m pretty. I mean, do you think I’ve grown uglier these last few months?” Jaskier had asked him once, looking at a mirror before they went to bed. Stretching his face, smushing it, looking for something, anything, that’d explain it._

_“Go to sleep Jaskier.” had been the bastard’s unhelpful answer._

Eventually, he notices how people mumble to each other as he passes through, how they quiet when he looks at them. And, bollocks, there’s probably a weird rumor going around him. He just hopes it isn’t something that diminishes his _skills_. Jaskier has to draw a line somewhere, and that’s pretty much it really.

It’s a cold night, after he’s finished playing, and Jaskier is flirting with a beautiful red-haired woman, luckily, she’s flirting back. She’s receptive and into it; sooner rather than later they’ll go up to her room. He knows it.

_Except-_

Well, he turns around for a second, to wave Geralt goodnight, as Geralt goes up to their room, because fucking finally he can fall in love for the night, and maybe the morning. Who knows, perhaps a couple of days. And when he turns back, the woman is exchanging hushed words with a couple of other beautiful ladies. Which, would be great (there is a great deal of fun with more than two people), but she looks disappointed.

He approaches the group cautiously, smiling with open arms, “Ladies, what seems to be the trouble here?”

The two force a smile, and leave, without a word. Which is strange, but sadly not the first time Jaskier’s had that effect on someone. So he looks back at the woman he was wooing, noticing her closed off expression and tense body; waits her inevitable (obvious) rejection.

“I must apologize, but I seem to have forgotten a previous engagement. So…”

As the gentleman that he is, he’d usually bow respectfully and let her go her way. Tonight though, he just really needs to know _why_.

“You can just be honest dear. I won’t take offense. But I must know the truth. What kind of rumor has been going around, for you to back out of our lovely arrangement?” there’s an edge to his voice. He isn’t mad at the girl, there’s no reason for it. He’s just confused, and going slightly mad for not knowing what’s going on.

“Well, I didn’t know you were... _you know._ ” she blushes, and it’s cute, but it only confuses him more.

“Know what?”

“ _With the Witcher._ That you two are- _you know._ And I certainly don’t wanna be getting in between you two. Heard he’s quite taken with you.” she rambles, almost as amazingly as he usually does, and practically runs off with one last goodbye, “Anyway I really must leave now.”

_Oh_.

Of all the rumors that could be roaming the streets, that certainly wasn’t one he was expecting. It isn’t true, at all. Not that he’d mind it, if it were. Not at all. In fact he’d quite enjoy it.

Putting his hands on Geralt? That’d be heavenly. Plenty of dreams where he got the privilege to do so, but they were nothing but dreams and fantasies. So, he has no idea where this came from, or who spread it. Or why. It’s annoying and frustrating though.

Luck is an unfair mistress, that probably hates Jaskier.

Might as well drown his sorrows before going to bed.

_He does_. Drown his sorrows that is.

Not that he’s drunk, no. Jaskier doesn’t get drunk. He gets happily tipsy. Except he can’t walk straight (can he ever though), and keeps bumping into things, but it’s _fine_. He manages to get to their room fairly well, without too many bruises. And even though he wants to be quiet because Geralt is probably asleep, he can’t quite control his strength. Closing the door behind him too hard, startling himself in the process.

“You’re early.” Geralt sounds grumpy, but somehow amused.

Remembering the conversation with the girl, makes Jaskier want to throw his shoe at Geralt’s head; it’s far too dark to do so though, and he’d probably fall on his ass attempting to do it, so instead he asks, “Did you know?”

Geralt waits for clarification, doesn’t get it, and huffs “About what?”

“About everyone thinking we’re, you know, together?” Jaskier is leaning against the door so he doesn’t fall as he tries to take off his shoes. It ends up not being very helpful, with him somehow ending up on the floor, sitting with one shoe off, incredibly frustrated.

“Hm.”

“Bloody hell Geralt. Hm? Hm what? What does that mean?” he’s sleepy, and the room is spinning, and he’s whining. Everything sucks. He can hear Geralt getting up from the bed, can feel him pick him up from the floor, and putting him in bed. It’s warm and it smells like the Witcher. It feels good.

“I could hear their hushed talks when we walked by.” Geralt explains, as he tucks him in, and slips next to Jaskier, settling down for the night.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jaskier’s cuddling Geralt, their legs entwined, his head on his chest - most nights they end up like this. Others end with Geralt hugging Jaskier from behind. None of them end with them separate. But it’s all in good, friendly fun. That’s all.

“Go to sleep Jaskier.”

Rolling his eyes (which gets him dizzier still), Jaskier mock repeats what Geralt said. His hand sneaking beneath Geralt’s shirt, he smiles; drifting off to sleep, he jokes, knowing he very much wishes it to be true, “If everyone already thinks we’re having sex, might as well go for it.”

He’s already halfway gone, when he hears Geralt laugh softly, “Sure. Tomorrow when you’re sober, if you still feel the same. We’ll talk about it.”


	2. Flirting in the Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier still can’t remember much, but figures he might as time goes by, at least he feels better, light, as he plucks at his lute and sings. Geralt is brushing Roach, whispering sweet nothings to the horse, and Jaskier isn’t jealous. She’s a horse. Except, maybe he is a little jealous, it sure would be nice if those words were directed at him instead. 
> 
> “Who’s a good girl?” Geralt says and-
> 
> Maybe not that one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple of ppl asked for more...so i'm delivering it lol i hope it's as good as the first chapter??? enjoy~~

_It’s warm._ Jaskier feels safe, a nice heavy weight keeping him tucked in. He can feel rough, scarred skin under his soft hands. It’s nice; his sleep-addled brain still stuck on the wonderful dream he was having, of strong hands and long, loving kisses - he doesn’t want to open his eyes. Feels he might lose something if he does.

But then the weight is moving away, and Jaskier is not having any of it. Clinging to it, rubbing his face in it, whining, everything to keep the warmth close. He’ll never let go.

“ _Jaskier._ ”

The whisper sends chills down Jaskier’s spine, and at the last moment he stops himself from moaning, his brain finally firing up. Slowly he opens one of his eyes, and Geralt is looking at him amused, as Jaskier basically pins him down to the bed, refusing to let him up. They both know full well, that Geralt could have pried Jaskier off him real easy, but _he didn’t_.

Jaskier is staring at him, trying to figure something out, trying to remember the night before, when Geralt repeats, more forcefully now, “Jaskier.”

Oh right, he’s still hanging on to him for dear life; can anyone blame him though? Clearing his throat, he finally disentangles from Geralt, missing the warmth, the safety, _the muscles_ , instantly.

“How much did I drink last night?” he asks as he watches Geralt get dressed, dizzy and nauseous, unable to even enjoy the view properly.

“ _Hm._ ”

“Right, you weren’t there. Stupid question.” his memory is jumbled, filled with blank spots. He just hopes he hadn’t made a fool of himself - more than usual at least. He notices Geralt perk up at that, a curious look in his eyes.

“You don’t remember?”

“I remember feeling frustrated, which I’m guessing is because the beautiful lady I was speaking to rejected me. Or else I’d have woken up with her in my arms. _Oh_. Did I get drunk because she rejected me? That doesn’t sound like me at all. But I guess it makes sense.” only after stopping his rambling, did he figure out that maybe he shouldn’t talk as much. It only made him want to vomit even more.

But even that, couldn’t shut him up, “Wait. Remember what? What did I do?” he asks, panicked, afraid of having said something stupid. Like confessing his undying love to Geralt, or any such nonsense. He wasn’t really keen on the idea of the Witcher leaving him behind, for being honest about how he feels. That saying that would be what finally breaks what they have. It would kill him.

Geralt looked thoughtful, which scared Jaskier even more, and then gave the smallest smile he could, “You fell on your arse. I had to drag you to bed.”

_Phew._

“Of course you did. You’re the most wonderful friend anyone could ever have, and I am lucky to have you.”

“Not your friend.” Geralt says, and Jaskier mockedly copies his voice, saying it at the same time. Geralt’s glare only makes him laugh, and then-

Oh.

Shit.

Jaskier runs to the bathroom, and closes himself in. Prays that no one hears him puke his guts out. Knows that Geralt will. They’ve been through worse together, it’s fine.

* * *

Luckily, Geralt truly is a wonderful friend, and eventually gives him a tonic to ease his hangover. He could kiss the man in thanks - well, he can always kiss the man, so that doesn’t mean much, but it’s the sentiment that counts, right?

Jaskier still can’t remember much, but figures he might as time goes by, at least he feels better, light, as he plucks at his lute and sings. Geralt is brushing Roach, whispering sweet nothings to the horse, and _Jaskier isn’t jealous_. She’s a horse. Except, maybe he is a little jealous, it sure would be nice if those words were directed at him instead.

“Who’s a good girl?” Geralt says and-

Maybe not that one.

_Although…_

No.

A cute man walks by, looking appreciatively at Jaskier - not Geralt - and cuts through his musings. New day, new love; Jaskier starts serenading the man. Making up a song about the man’s dark skin, and wonderful curls, laying it on thick, as a siren beckons their prey with their singing. He winks as final measure.

It works.

The man approaches, a beautiful smile on his face, and Jaskier is already thinking of all the ways they were going to enjoy themselves. When the man looks to the side of him, and his smile falters. He looks one last time at Jaskier, shrugs and leaves.

“What in the bloody hell is going on?” Jaskier asks no one, as he looks beside him. Geralt is looking at him unimpressed, arms crossed (and if those arms look huge normally, the way they look like that is a sin against humanity and should be illegal, thank you very much).

This all feels very similar.

Like-

Like last night. The woman rejecting him, telling him-

“Geralt! I can’t believe you did it again.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Geralt drops his arms, and gets back to working on Roach.

“You knew about the rumors about you and me, and didn’t tell me.” it was Jaskier’s turn to fold his arms. Not that he’d ever look half as intimidating as Geralt.

“Not my fault you forgot.”

Jaskier prepares himself to go on a major lecture/ramble, when the rest of his memories get clearer. Geralt putting him to bed, them cuddling, _Jaskier making an absolute fool of himself_. Geralt laughing.

_Geralt laughing._

Geralt laughing softly, and not rejecting him, _“Sure. Tomorrow when you’re sober, if you still feel the same. We’ll talk about it.”_

Jaskier thought that was a dream.

He’s totally not panicking. It’s fine. He’s so good at this.

 _‘You don't want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting.’_ remembering his first attempt at flirting with Geralt, maybe he’s not that good at it after all. Somehow his words always gets jumbled in his presence.

Jaskier just never thought his feelings might be reciprocated, he’s happy with their friendship. Satisfied even. So, he’s not quite sure on how to react to _this_.

A Geralt willing to talk about... _them_. It feels weird. But then again Jaskier talked about sex, not a relationship, not _love_.

Maybe he’s overthinking.

As he looks at the most important person in his life, Jaskier sighs. He sighs and thinks about how the rumor might have come along, he can be quite touchy.

 _Wait_.

“Geralt, my dear, wonderful, beautiful, Witcher.” he sing songs, waiting till he turns around to continue. Needing to see his eyes, and face, to understand.

Geralt stops brushing Roach, and looks back at Jaskier, a cautious expression on his face.

“Why were you giving that beautiful man the evil eye?” obviously Geralt doesn’t answer, just stares, so Jaskier continues, “Do you always do that? When I’m trying to woo someone? Did the rumors start because of you?”

Question after question, Geralt still doesn’t answer, but luckily Jaskier is a pro at reading his face by now (if he’s looking hard enough at least), and notices how his lips twitch almost imperceptibly. Notices his fists clench. Notices how Geralt looks away guiltily after the last question.

“You could have just said so.” Jaskier whispers, afraid to _want_ , to ruin everything.

“I wouldn’t take away your choice like that.” Geralt’s eyes are bright, wide - vulnerable.

“Right. Instead you just scare away everyone? How’s that any different?”

“I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I just-”

 _Oh._ It’s not like Jaskier was a fan of Geralt being touched by other people either. For fucks sake, he’s jealous of a horse. He gets it.

“You’re the dumbest Witcher I’ve ever met. If I can have you, there’s no choice to make.” Jaskier smiles as he closes their distance, grabbing Geralt’s hand, he laces their fingers together.

“It’s obvious I’m the only Witcher you’ve ever met, because there are Witchers far dumber than me.” Geralt jokes cutting the tension, making Jaskier laugh.

Their foreheads are touching now, they’re so close Geralt’s breath tickles Jaskier’s lips, noses touching. But before they kiss, Jaskier says, “I’m sober now.”

It’s Geralt’s turn to laugh.

Grabbing Jaskier’s neck, and his waist, he closes the distance completely. Claiming his lips, soft and slow. It’s the perfect imperfect kiss. A kiss that has been building for years. A kiss that tastes like home. And he puts all the feelings he can’t say into it, giving everything to Jaskier, opening himself completely. It’s messy and needy and greedy, but never hurried.

They lose themselves in it.

Until Geralt hears someone talk (and people really need to learn how to actually whisper), “See, I was right. They are together.”

Geralt separates from Jaskier, so the bard can finally breathe, and so he can take him away from the onlookers. He can see Jaskier from the corner of his eye, as he waves at everyone with a dopey smile on his face.

For a moment, when Jaskier woke up with no memory of the previous night, he thought that was it. That it had been a drunken moment, that it hadn’t meant anything, just a passing remark. And he was going to let it go. To let Jaskier go, be free, to do whatever. But then he was serenading someone else, right in front of him and-

Well, his body had reacted faster than he had expected.

As it did every other time he thought of Jaskier going to someone else’s room. Not that he actually understood why any of it was happening though. Not until he heard the rumors. Then...then something inside him loosened. He wanted Jaskier for himself. Couldn’t bear the thought of someone else touching him. Took advantage of the rumors, feeling victorious every time Jaskier came to their bedroom far earlier than expected, and cuddled with him instead.

And now-

Now they are both going to their room, at the same time. Because Jaskier wants him just as much. There’s no choice to make. It has to be him.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm also kickassfu on tumblr~~


End file.
